


Dualscar's Demise

by digimaniac33



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 21:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digimaniac33/pseuds/digimaniac33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angered by the murder of her jadeblooded slave, Mindfang ignores Dualscar's black advances. In retaliation, he goes to the Grand Highblood to turn her in. The meeting doesn't go as he planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dualscar's Demise

_She's gone too far,_ Cronus Ampora, better known as the Orphaner Dualscar thought to himself. He sat in his cabin, reading over the reports and messages brought to him by his subordinates. _Some affected apathy is all well and good, but this is entirely too much!_ It had been perigees since Dualscar had Mindfang's flushed pet put down, and since then she hadn't battled against his forces at all. If his fleet came upon hers in the open sea, she fled from any shots fired. If he sought her out at dock, she turned her face from him. Messengers sent in pursuit were returned unharmed, baited traps were completely ignored. It was frustrating in all the wrong ways.

In a final attempt to salvage their kismesissitude, he threatened to reveal her secrets to the Grand Highblood, the highest authority on the planet. When no reply came, Dualscar realized she was calling his bluff, and he would have to deliver.

Thus did he find himself pacing in a waiting room, preparing the words he would need to convince the Grand Highblood of the veracity of his claims.

The current Grand Highblood was a mysterious figure, for all that he was as much in the public eye as her Imperial Condescension Herself. Everyone knew of Her beauty, Her ferocity, and Her penchant for puns of the deep sea, as well as much more, but similar facts about the Grand Highblood were either unknown or wildly contradictory. Some claimed he killed any who came before his person, while others refuted that as a rumor created by sycophants, that he was actually a sickly troll who couldn't even cull a rustblood. People said he was large as a mountain or small as a hornbeast, that he had gills hidden beneath a mass of hair or that his horns were fake, that he had an entire set of fake horns so he could appear as any troll he pleased. He was either the purest of indigos or a trumped-up blueblood or an arrogant seadweller or (and these were the quietest whispers) a limeblood, protected from culling by the Condesce Herself. There were even rumors that he was a Mirthful Messiah cultist, though most dismissed those as patently ridiculous.

Whatever the truth was, his closest attendants stayed silent, and the few who had truly met with him and survived kept their tongues still as well. This was all troublesome to a troll like Dualscar, who depended on knowing how to cajole, threaten, and flatter their opponent to further their own purposes.

Dualscar was a master at such things, though, and so he felt impatient rather than nervous or frightened as he waited for the Grand Highblood's summons, He had a plan for every possibility he could think of, and several for the ones he couldn't imagine. All of them depended on figuring out exactly what sort of troll the Grand Highblood was as soon as possible, and nothing more could be done waiting around.

A door opened, letting in a mustardblood who would escort him to the Grand Highblood's audience. "Finally," the Orphaner muttered as he followed the other troll down a series of hallways, other trolls milling or bustling about. This building, as well as the others in the complex, served as the bloodpusher that kept the planetary government running strong. Therefore, each building was a maze of hallways and rooms, as new sections were built to accommodate an ever larger government. Dualscar and his guide took so many twists and turns that a lesser troll might have despaired of ever finding their way out again. His superior military training allowed him to keep track of every turn they made, though, creating a map of the building in his head that could prove necessary if his audience with the Grand Highblood didn't go well.

Their journey ended in front of a plain set of doors, indistinguishable from any of the others they'd passed. Dualscar's guide bowed and walked away, leaving the Orphaner to open the door for himself. _Cheap attempt at intimidation,_ Cronus sniffed to himself - any troll who felt uncomfortable at being left without instructions deserved to be culled on the spot. After reaffirming his flawless appearance, he confidently pushed the doors wide open and strode in. The sight inside made his arrogant strut falter.

The room was bright, painfully so after the comfortably dim light of the hallway. All light came from the many sconces set into the wall - no windows were in the walls, meaning the natural light of the moons was shut outside. The wavering candlelight revealed walls, floor, and ceiling covered by splotches and splatters of color from the entire hemospectrum, rust overlapping teal and cerulean neighboring olive. There were even patches that could have been lime before the centuries dried them to a darker hue.

There was no furniture in the room save for a large throne by the wall to the right of the door Dualscar had entered through. He was thrown off a little, expecting the throne to be in front of him as he entered. It wasn't raised by a platform, either, though its size gave the same impression. In it sat the troll Dualscar had come to see - the Grand Highblood, Kurloz Makara himself.

Even in his momentary confusion, the Orphaner began analyzing everything about the mysterious troll he could from his appearance alone. The rumors of his mountainous size proved true, as did those concerning his wild hair, though obviously no gills were visible (yet, a small part of Cronus's mind whispered). He sat in his throne as if it were made to fit him, though the throne had existed for generations of highbloods. Although his face was painted, his expressions were easy enough to read. He looked at the Orphaner expectant but disinterested, as though this were the last task he had to complete for the night before turning into recuperacoon. As it was just before midnight, Dualscar found it another obvious attempt at intimidation, one he refused to fall prey to. He marched forward until he was just a pace from the throne itself, an intimate distance challenging the Grand Highblood's power over the situation. His expression didn't change, though, not even by a twitch of the eyebrow. He simply stared, obviously waiting for the Orphaner to begin his report.

Dualscar decided to try formality, in contrast to his brash placement. That would hopefully throw the Highblood off balance. "To my ferocious liege, the Grand Highblood above all, he who answers only to Her Imperious Condescension Herself, I offer my humble and unworthy greetings," he proclaimed with a florid bow. No change. "I bring information concerning the most terrible scourge of the seas, the pirate commander known as Marquise Spinneret Mindfang." Still nothing. The Orphaner paused longer, trying to see if the Grand Highblood could be pushed into replying through silence. "My liege, do you have any interest in my report?" The large troll didn't even blink.

Dualscar decided to change strategies. "If my report falls upon deaf ears, then I won't bother giving it." He turned from the throne and walked back to the door he'd entered through. As he reached the door, a voice behind him said, "Well?" He turned back, but the troll on the throne hadn't moved a muscle. Then he spoke again: "Have you truly come just to waste my time with crumbs of motherfucking falsehoods?"

The epithet surprised Dualscar - while many trolls would use such a word, no one he'd met spoke it so earnestly. No one except a Mirthful Messiah cultist who'd assaulted him in a port town a few sweeps back. She'd been swiftly culled, but the fervent zeal in her voice and the paint on her face had made an impression on Dualscar. Another rumor which had been proven true - he really should've guessed from the facepaint.

As a part of his brain worked on how to exploit this new fact, the Orphaner returned to his place before the throne. "I don't appreciate giving sensitive information to an unresponsive audience, whether it be my lowliest subordinate or the Grand Highblood himself." He prepared himself to spring backward in case this insult caused the Highblood to lash out.

Instead, to Dualscar's surprise, he laughed loud and brash. "My most sincere motherfucking apologies. I will hear your report with the most open and appreciative ears I have got." The troll grinned at the Orphaner. "Continue. You claim to have useful information on the motherfucking Marquise herself."

"Yes," Dualscar said, "but how can I be certain you will truly appreciate the information I have to offer? After all, it is quite valuable, and I went to great pains to obtain it."

"Hm. You're wanting a token of my appreciation, yes?" Dualscar said nothing, refusing to fall into the obvious trap. The Grand Highblood tapped his chair twice. Though such a signal was very quiet, a servant quickly appeared from the doors behind Dualscar. "Bring a chest from the storeroom right motherfucking quick." The servant bowed and left again. "There, a sign of appreciation. Now talk."

Dualscar bowed. "Your gesture is noted, but I was hoping for a less traditional reward." Silence fell over the room. It was a risky move he was taking, but the Grand Highblood seemed to be a simple troll, nothing like the violent rumors his supporters passed around. As the Grand Highblood made no moves to attack him for his audacity, he continued. "While my work on this planet is necessary and rewarding, I feel my talents would be put to better use amongst the Empress's forces. Such an assignment would be simple to arrange, yes?"

The Grand Highblood nodded slowly. "Yes, I can see that a motherfucking upstanding troll such as you belongs among the stars themselves. As you say, that would be easy to arrange."

"We understand each other, then?"

"We sure as motherfuck do."

"Excellent." Dualscar relaxed his stance slightly. "I knew you would be a reasonable troll to deal with," he lied as he rejoiced internally. To think, a simpleton like this had been in charge of this planet for so long, and he'd never taken advantage of it until now. Perhaps he would hold off on joining the Empress on Her imperial mission to expand the empire to the edges of the galaxy until he'd milked every little bit of worth out of this fool that he could.

"Reasonable, huh? Despite the rumors surrounding my personage, you mean?" The Grand Highblood smiled, his facepaint exaggerating the motion. "Such rumors serve to make a life like mine much easier. If a motherfucker don't know what's true to what's not, the motherfucker does what I want them to do much easier. You agree?" Dualscar nodded absentmindedly. "I thought you would. You're a smart troll, a troll who knows how to control the people around him. You saw all this for the motherfucking joke that it is, right?" He gestured to the room around him. "Keep a room the motherfuckers before you have stained with a thousand corpses, and people seem to think you're another just like the rest. And when they expect a killing blow, you hand them a shiny trophy instead. Throw them off, keep them guessing, never let your true self show." He laughed again as a feeling of dread crept over Dualscar. "Then again, if they're expecting a shiny trophy for the enormous favor of standing before me and trying to tell me a thing I motherfucking know, I gotta do what they aren't expecting, right?"

"Wait," Dualscar plead as he realized his entire situation had changed before his eyes, "I swear, you don't know what I've come to tell you. Mindfang, she's -"

"I know every motherfucking thing I need to know about the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang. If you've got nothing else for me, you're useless."

"Wait!" Dualscar started backing away from the throne.

"Well, not completely useless." The door behind Dualscar opened again, admitting a servant dragging a large club stained like the walls of the room. "You can help me touch up the decor. The seadweller blood in here's been nearly covered up. I wouldn't want any motherfucking seatrash to think they're above my law." He stepped forward from the throne, took the club from the waiting servant, and hefted it to his shoulder like it was weightless. "So, Orphaner Dualscar. Do you have something useful for me, or do I have to find a use for you myself?"

"You can't kill me, I am a high-ranking officer of the Empress's Imperial Navy, and you will pay dearly for -"

Dualscar's final threat was cut short by a club strike to the head delivered deceptively fast. The Grand Highblood settled back onto his throne and tapped for more servants. They entered from hidden doors around the room, and he ordered, "Take his corpse out, do whatever you fucking please with it. The Marquise belittled herself by dallying with that fool. Put my club away, and make sure the blood motherfucking stays on it until it dries." All but one of the servants bowed and went about their tasks. This last servant, one he'd motioned over as the others began their work, received a final command: "Bring me a legislacerator. It's time the Marquise's games were finished."


End file.
